


done it all a hundred times before

by The_IPRE



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Slow Dancing, Takes place between Nordia and N’goni, Travis Matagot (Is Dancing With Ghosts), Travis Matagot (Is Living In The Past), Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29556612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_IPRE/pseuds/The_IPRE
Summary: “Fancy seeing you here.” Travis’s voice is drowned out by another echoing explosion, but Margaret glances to him easily.“Evening, Mr. Matagot,” she says with a breath of a laugh, as though they hadn’t spent the day together perusing a market in the town below, for once not trying to save the world. She looks away as her gaze is caught once more by a crackling firework, brilliant green with white florets bursting moments after. Margaret doesn’t seem to realize when she speaks, words a whisper in the cold air. “It’s beautiful.”Travis is helpless to the way the colors catch in her curls, outlining the profile that he would know by silhouette alone, and in the darkness he almost lets himself imagine. “Yeah,” he says, and can’t stand how soft his voice is around the word. In this moment, precious and impossible, he lets it slide. “It is.”
Relationships: Margaret/Travis Matagot
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	done it all a hundred times before

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'two slow dancers' by mitski which is required listening

It seems like you can’t throw a rock in Spéir these days without hitting some sort of festival, and as the _Uhuru_ lifts away from the small town of Seel’s Bend, it is to the vibrant chaos of fireworks. 

Color and noise fill the night sky, and when Travis sees Margaret resting against the railing of the ship, he is helpless against her current. His hands are in his pockets as he approaches, the picture of ease, but she doesn’t notice the performance. 

Margaret’s gaze is caught by the lights, arms crossed against the railing and lips slightly parted in awe. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” Travis’s voice is drowned out by another echoing explosion, but Margaret glances to him easily.

“Evening, Mr. Matagot,” she says with a breath of a laugh, as though they hadn’t spent the day together perusing a market in the town below, for once not trying to save the world. She looks away as her gaze is caught once more by a crackling firework, brilliant green with white florets bursting moments after. Margaret doesn’t seem to realize when she speaks, words a whisper in the cold air. “It’s beautiful.”

Travis is helpless to the way the colors catch in her curls, outlining the profile that he would know by silhouette alone, and in the darkness he almost lets himself imagine. “Yeah,” he says, and can’t stand how soft his voice is around the word. In this moment, precious and impossible, he lets it slide. “It is.”

The fireworks continue, filling the air with smoke and enough plausible deniability that Travis lets himself lean against the railing as well, lets himself appreciate the show. For once, he doesn’t feel that pressing need to talk and distract and entertain, and he can’t say that he hates the change. 

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t watching his companion more than the sky. Margaret’s wonder at the fireworks, quick eyes cataloguing the colors and expression so open it makes Travis want to run. 

For once, he stays. 

Behind them on the deck, the Barry’s have started performing, a deep voice rolling through the air on the threads of a violin, undercut by the clapping and various chatter of the crew. The noise suddenly breaks through the bubble he had been held in, reminding Travis that it is not simply the two of them this time. The Uhuru has gained some height and distance now, the fireworks beginning to be lost to the distance, and Travis turns to Margaret with a hand extended. “May I have this dance?”

Margaret looks at him, head cocked, and that quirked smile is etched onto the most hidden corners of his heart. He looks at the light playing over the black lily tattoo on her shoulder, and reminds himself where he is. “Of course,” she says, and her hand fits into his like parts of a whole. 

They do not move far, holding one another and gliding through the familiar motions in a space that is their own. The distant flashes of light keep catching across Margaret’s face, and Travis feels as though he is living a thousand moments at once.

He holds Margaret close, focuses on just this one.

What a moment it is.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment or kudos, or come talk to me on tumblr at [the-ipre](https://the-ipre.tumblr.com)!


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